


The things we cannot un-know

by XPhileChai



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 01:59:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12223437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XPhileChai/pseuds/XPhileChai
Summary: Scully finds out about Mulder's brain disease. Set somewhere in season 7.





	The things we cannot un-know

She knew he would forget; he’s been forgetting random things lately. She let her self into his apartment and called out for him. “Mulder,” she went to his bedroom door and peeked in. He was definitely not home. She sighed and walked over to the fish tank. She poured a few flakes in and watched them swim around, never knowing when their next food might be delivered to them. She took out her cell phone and dialed his number. Straight to voice mail. “Mulder, it’s me, I’m here like you asked me to be, and you’re not. I’ll stay for a bit but I’m going home if you’re not here soon.” She hung up and sat on the couch. She’d agreed to help him organize his receipts for his taxes, though it was discussed a few days ago. Of course he forgot.  
She’d been leaning back, dozing off when his landline rang. She rubbed her eyes and stood up to begin to leave the apartment, when the caller began leaving their voicemail. “Hello Mr. Mulder, this is Tina from Dr. Sawyer’s office. We have gotten the lab results back and think you need to come in at your earliest convenience. It might be a good idea if you bring your old lab results, so that we can compare. If you do not have them, we can request them from your previous neurologist. Thank you!” She turned back toward the phone and cocked her head to the side. What lab results, and what previous lab results. Had she forgotten something? She tried Mulder’s cell phone again, straight to voicemail, again. After five more minutes of just sitting there, wracking her brain, she began to open his desk drawers, looking around for these lab results. She realized she was probably crossing a line, and that just because they were sleeping together didn’t give her the right. But wouldn’t he have done the same? She found a small key in one of the drawers and looked around for what it might go to. She went into his room and found a medium size safe and opened it. She sifted around: his will, the deed to his mother’s house, some photos, and a manila envelope. She opened the envelope and sat back onto his bed.   
She read through the paragraph and brought her index finger to her mouth as she interpreted the labs. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry, yell, or begin researching.   
At that moment, she heard his key in his door. She didn’t move; there was a combination of fire and ice running through her body, probably something like the growth pumping with his blood in his brain.   
“Scully, you here?” He slammed the door and jogged in, sweating from his apparent basketball playing.   
He saw her sitting on his bed and came in, bracing himself on the door. “What..” He saw what she was looking at and took a deep breath in. “Scully-“   
“How long have you known?” He would have walked to her but wasn’t sure if she was going to shoot him, punch him, or cry. She wasn’t sure of any of that herself.   
“I-“  
“Mulder, these results are from March. From March and it’s almost the end of September. Were you even going to tell me?” she flips through the pages. “Were you even going to tell me?” she finally looked at him. “Or were you just going to let me find out-“  
“Okay, Scully, stop,” he came forward.   
“I don’t want to be here right now,” she stood up and walked around him, though he put his hand up to stop her.   
“Would you let me explain?” He followed her through the living room toward the door.  
“Explain what, Mulder? That you’re dying? I-I mean I had to hear it on your voicemail, that-that something is wrong. Were you even going to tell me?” He brought his hands to his face. “You weren’t going to tell me.” She whispered. “Were you just… were we…” He could see the beginnings of a crumbling Dana Scully. He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her into him. She breathed him in, deciding to forego the comments about her clothes smelling like his sweat.   
“I didn’t want to tell you, no,” he murmured into her hair. “I was hoping… to get a direction, a plan, and would hope that I could have told you then.”   
She pulled back and looked into his face. “Mulder I know specialists, I know people, and you’ve known for six months. Six months,” she said, trying not to fall apart despite the tears pooling in her eyes. “That’s just… that’s just not fair,” she said and her lips started to quiver.  
“I know,” he pulled her into him again. “Scully things have been going so well for us. I feel like we’ve finally taken off. I didn’t want to ruin that,” he kissed her head.  
“Well Mulder I’d rather know then wake up to you unconscious,” she pulled back and looked in his face. “I’m so mad… I’m so mad,” she repeated. “But I can’t-“ she lost her words and leaned into him again, clinging more forcefully.  
“I’m so sorry Scully,” he held her to him, rubbing her back. “I’ll tell you everything,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry,” he continued, as she cried into him.


End file.
